April Submissions

 

Memories of love

If you loved me for a time.
Let the memory keeps it shine
Let the times you held me dear, remain in my heart always near.
Let the mention of your name, never be said with tones of bane
Let the lingering of your scent, always remind me of moments spent,
in the loving warm embrace, and the smile upon your face.
Let the stars remind me dear of the your light removing my fear.
Let my lips keep the tingle of a...
friendly kisses mingle.
Let our time no be ill begotten, nor let it be forgotten.
Lupa De Danna

To Live Again©
 
Maddie walked slowly down the slippery wet steps going down from the high hill in the Paris neighbourhood of Montmartre. She loved this very old area, located in the north eastern part of the French capital. It was an artists' and painters' village in the middle of the great city, with its own little gardens, streets and a commercial section that attracted visitors from all over the world. It was here that some of the world's most celebrated painters lived and thrived through their paintings and portraits. During the mid-19th century and early 20 th centuries, and more recently the 60's and 70's, artists have found refuge and inspiration in the streets shadowed by the great Sacre-Coeur (Sacred Heart) Basilica. Maddie loved her maternal grandmother and visited her every week. Now she was on her way to home to her own apartment which she shared with the love of her life, Jean-Loup. She also had to get her article ready for the next day's deadline at the newspaper where she worked.

 

Her grandmother was her guide and guardian, and Maddie felt very close to her, especially as she was given her grandmother's name. Madeleine was of Italian gypsy origins, a strange yet gentle woman of a certain age who delved in the Tarot and the mysteries of the Earth. She had a beautiful little garden in the back of her ground floor apartment in which all kinds of plants, herbs and small fruit trees thrived. She was very much loved by her neighbours and made friends all over the neighbourhood. Madeleine told Maddie that she had a hidden clairvoyant gifts and had been teaching her how to develop them. Little by little she taught her namesake the principles by which she lived and bit by bit Maddie learned the hidden mysteries of her ancient heritage; at the same time learned tolerance for all beliefs, for they were all bound by the same unique love for a unique Higher Superior Being. It was all about living. Each experience, each event in life - whether good or bad - gave us the opportunity to live life over and over again; with each experience we let go and die, pass on, becoming renewed and reborn as it were, by its lessons, by its poignant premonitory signs that are always present, if only we would take the time too open our senses to them.     

 

As she reached the bottom step, Maddie spied a shiny object in a large crack in the step. Reaching down, she was able to wedge it out, and saw it was a copper coin. She saw that one side had the head of a large bird resembling an eagle or a hawk and the other side she read ex vivo, which she knew from her school studies to mean "out of or from life." Fingering the coin, it appeared to be made in copper and looked brand new. After a moment the coin began to feel warm and then very hot. She wanted to drop the coin, but couldn't. Instead, she held it close to her heart, no longer resisting the high vibrations that she felt were circling her body, surrounding it with an intense heat. Suddenly all went black and Maddie felt herself floating in an airy like substance.
 
She opened her eyes and found herself flying over the city. Slowly she glided, feeling the wind rustling through her body. "What is happening to me?" she screamed to herself.  Maddie looked about herself and saw that she had somehow become a hawk…like the hawk on the copper coin she found. "How did this happen to me?"  But she love it, love being free, of living a new and different life. She had a view of the entire of Montmartre on its high "hill," and lifting her head, could see the Eiffel Tower far in the west; to the south she could spot the spires of Notre Dame Cathedral, and the golden needle of the Obelisk with it's golden needle in the centre, along with many other of  Paris' outstanding monuments. As she flew back north to Montmartre, she spied her grandmother's apartment building, located in a street just down from the basilica. She tried to slow her flight and gradually landed on the roof, determined to do everything possible not to attract attention. Leaning over in the side high above the courtyard, Maddie saw her grandmother's little garden and flew downwards, she glided past an old wooden table near the terrace door, and swerved through the open terrace doors. She found her grandmother sitting in her favourite rocking chair, seeming asleep. She landed on the floor before her and crouched on her large claws. Madeleine opened her deep grey-blue eyes and looked down at the hawk.

 

"Ah, so now you've discovered the secret of our family, my child," Madeleine said, smiling. I, too, have this gift, and have used it often. Only a few members of our family have this special gift of changing our form; some have taken on the body of other animals, but we women, that is, those of my immediate family, have the very special gift of taking on the form the birds of the air. You and I, being closely related, are from the peregrine hawk clan. For you and me, to be free is flying free in the wind. Our freedom is having the ability to live again, over and over; our liberty is to live as we wish, accepting our responsibilities and missions and performing them in our various shapes. We are not immortal; we do return back to life again … live again and again as we complete our life work." She took the coin from Maddie's beak and looked at it.

 

"I had placed this coin where you found it last night, knowing you would eventually find it. It was a test to see if you would be able to change your form without fear and without reproach. That you did, and in a magnificent way."

 

"It is time you learned the truth about your life. Your mother Aurore refused to accept the gift that she was born with, and ran off at a young age with a man who made her with child. That child was you.  Aurore died immediately after childbirth, not being properly cared for during her pregnancy. I found her abandoned in a strange home for lost women. You were only a few days old and after proving that Aurore was indeed my daughter I became your legal guardian and raised you as my own. Thus my heritage is now yours. To keep it you must remember that as you continue to live, you must continue to keep our own special heritage alive by teaching the principles and ideals to our sons and daughters. Come now, you must learn how to reverse your condition. Remain still and listen closely."

 

Madeleine took the coin and placed it in Maddie's right claw, closed her eyes and repeated the Latin inscription on the coin several times. After a short moment, Maddie felt her body being reshaped, filling out and found herself standing before her kneeling grandmother, the coin deep within the closed fist of her right hand.

 

"…to live again, again and again, that is our motto, my child; our heritage will live again through the secret child in your womb…"

 

"B-but how did you know, noni (grandmother)?"

 

"Oh but I have known for a time now; I can feel it in your aura. It has happened as it should be. To love is to live again, and I know you do love Jean-Loup. He is a good young man with a promising law career and will make a good father to your son. As you can tell by his name, he takes the form of the wolf ( loup)."

 

As much as she was surpassed by the events she had just witness, Maddie understood that her grandmother meant every word she had spoken, and took her hands in her own. She looked deeply in her eyes and smiled.

 

"And so it will be.  …to live again and again, today, tomorrow, forever."   

 

© Copyright Joanne Pons, April 2007

Origin of a super hero
 
Way, down South, in Louisiana, where the swamps are everywhere is where I live. We are so far back in the swamp that we can only travel to "the city" during low tide because there is only one narrow place where we can exit from the swamplands onto The Atchafalaya River. We tie our boat onto the pontoons under the Interstate, climb up a rope that is knotted every foot for a hand or foothold, and climb up onto the dry land at the rest stop, where Pa keeps his old beat up truck. The other choice is to go to The Swampe Inn to our warehouse, where the other truck and motorcycle is stored.Papa says that when you live like we do, you always need a backup plan, and that is ours... two places to travel to so that we can get out of town. and, around here there are plenty of reasons to want to get out of town... boredom, Katrina, birthdays.
 
 Mr. Lyle named his store The Swampe Inn because he thought it sounded fancy to have an "e"at the end of the word. This was about a week after I found a picture of a Lampe Berger that I wanted to order and have it sent to the Post Office that is also his and is in the back corner of his shoppe. He thought that the e on the end sounded fancy, so he put an e on the end of Swampe...Papa said that it was kind of like putting lipstick on a hog... Prettying it up doesn't do us much good. But, we
catch a laugh wherever we can, so we are constantly putting an e on the end of words like Mr Lyle to make us sound fancy. I guess I'll wear lipstick next time I go to his store, and give him a good laugh or two.
 
Well, we live on a houseboat, kind of like Tammy in Tammy and The Doctor... and Lord help us all, I just love that movie. I am still waiting for MY Doctor. I keep looking for him, but so far, in my 20 years on this river I haven't seen a pretty man in the River, only gators and fish and junk... and of course Papa.
 
I guess that is when it all started... one day, I was just daydreaming and looking at the water and the little waves cresting when the boat started rocking and I fell in. Papa says that we never know what we can do til the Good Lord pushes us into doing it, and that is when I did it.... I guess I could have been doing it all along if I had known, I just didn't know and to tell the truth it never occurred to me that I could.
 
I fell into the river, and even thought I can swim, Lord knows that I can't outswim a 'gator. The same one that I had been watching...sunning himself... all day.... Well, he's the very one that came charging the houseboat... and there I was leaning over the other side, oblivious of the fact that a 'gator was coming straight for me, like he was in some sort of bad horror movie. And, there I was, wearing shorts and no shoes, leaning over the side, looking at the catfish and some crawfish on shore.
 
That's when it happened. That's when I found myself flailing in midair between the boat and the water... and of course, the 'gator. He was in the water, just below the surface... looking all predator-ish. I swear he had a smile a mile wide that said something like "I'm gonna eat tonight... and you're my dinner". Well, I decided right then and there that I was not gonna die being someone's dinner.  i had my entire life flash before my eyes, just like the preacher says that it does. I saw Papa, I saw Mama, I saw the preacher, and then I saw that gosh darned 'gator in all his glory and teeth. I saw Papa and Mama looking for me and wondering what happened to me. I thought of the search parties that would be looking for me and the people that I'd miss. That's when it occurred to me that I could talk myself out of it. I just looked Mr. Gator right into his beady little eye (at least the one that was on my side of him) and told him that he needed to find someone else for dinner. I didn't care who, just not me and just not today.  He bit into my side and it hurt like nothing else. I thought I had died, and then he looks at me and says that I have been warned and he wants me to talk to him because no one has ever talked to him before. Neither one of us knew why it had never ocurred to anyone before me to talk to a 'gator, but I told him that if he let me go, I'd talk to him whenever he wanted me to. 
 
We decided to become friends, and he said that his mark would make sure that I'd be safe from all other animals in the swamp because they were scared of him... He said that I should just tell them that he was watching out for me and that he had spared me and if they didn't, he would eat them.
 
Well, that is when I learned that I could talk to the animals, kind of like Dr. Doolittle, and now that is my nickname... "Doolittle". Now, most folks think that is because I'm lazy, but to the few that know my secret, well, they like me to come along with them if they go out...
 
I am the best tracker in the state of Louisiana, and there is a rumor that I talked my way out of a 'gator fight and won. Now, you know the truth, and how I became "Dolittle", the swamp guide.

Robbie

Spring time blues

Sitting at a desk
tying to think
drown out the noise
that doesn't seem to end
put on some music
to bring some light
but instead slip into the black
 
Dance card beyond full
yet more is added
want to break free
to be the those flowers lazily taking in the sun's love
 
Longing to be wandering in it's warm glow
instead of being stuck behind stone walls
cold, unyielding
while the air outside draws me near
I'm held captive by cement and steel
 
Marie Kathryn Casalaspo
April 23, 2007

Scenes from a dream

Sitting back
closing eyes
pain flowing far away
single tear falls
as memories flood
tear full more steadily
so many mistakes
mis-steps
so much missed
 
Tears dissolve the film
scene changes
a distant dream rush in
castles, knights, true love
falling in love so sweet
laying in meadows
hidin' in flowers
tender carresses
filling the hours
 
dreamy state
soft dove cries
waking up in a lover's arms
waves of love surrounding
 
Eyes open
the dream files away
flooded with reality
sad sigh fills the air
why are dreams so sweet
and reality anything but?
 
Marie Kathryn Casalaspro
April 23, 2007

Photos

Leafing thru files
I came upin a treasure trove
of memories
From long ago
looking thru
started to laugh
and the by gone fashions and hair styles
pulled out a picture
shed a tear
in honor of a life gone by
 
Early shot of a young man
was that really him?
leaning against a motor bike
no smile on his face
I guess that wouldn't have seemed right
he should have smiled
if was his life.
 
Another one
of a young girl in white
was i ever so  young
thirty three years have passed since then
face is still the face
memories remain........
 
Marie Kathryn Casalaspro
April 24, 2007
***WARNING - Slight Graphic Content/Medical Procedures***
 
 
Post Mortem
 
When I looked at her I had know idea who she was or why she was dead.  The paramedics from the scene who had brought her in suspected a drug overdose, due to the slight foaming around the mouth. It was my job to find out the how and the why equating to the cause of death.
 
Her long blonde hair cascaded slender shoulders and gave shape to her once beautiful face, peaceful now as if in slumber.  Her velvety complexion, an indication she had been someone who took care of herself, was a soft milky white.  Long slender finger brandished nails painted a soft pink while a subtle colour shading her eyes bore the only evidence of make-up worn.  This woman was no street walker or junkie.  She was someone – with a life and a name.
 
But now her eyes stared into oblivion that empty sightless gaze of the dead as I began a preliminary examination, noting the slight signs of petechiae.  This would indicate asphyxiation, possibly due to suffocation or strangulation, though I could see no signs of ligature marks on or around the neck.  Placing the two halves of my specially designed spectacles together over my nose I leaned in closer to inspect the milky complexion of her face, devoid of anything but the same several tiny pin-point marks I noted in her eyes.   I carefully opened her mouth to find her tongue slightly swollen and curved backwards, as if in a method of choking.  Closer scrutiny of her neck confirmed there to be no bruising which would most certainly be present in cases of strangulation.
 
Moving to the woman’s upper torso I carefully analysed the area surrounding the mammilla which only revealed the scarring of a small incision beneath each breast, indicating an augmentation.  She’d had breast implants.   Such beauty so refined and sadly women today still feel unhappy and dissatisfied with their bodies. Yet my position is not to judge or make assumptions, but to examine and collect the evidence the silent witness leaves behind.   Further inspection of her lower torso and stomach revealed a caesarean scar, testifying to having had at least one child.  There was no excess body fat so Jane Doe appeared to be in exceptionally good physical condition. 
 
I found myself cringing at my use of the term “Jane Doe”.  This woman was in exceptional shape, well cared for and obviously had money.  It felt somewhat unnatural labelling her with the same name given to the unknown and nameless bodies that arrived in my morgue each day, week, year. This woman had been someone, but until the police identify her sadly that is what she is – a Jane Doe.
 
Continuing my examination I find the fading yellow remnants of what appeared to be a week old bruise on her left upper thigh, but nothing recent to indicate a struggle leading to her death.  No scratches, no bruising, no injuries of any kind.  On the surface, there was nothing to suggest exactly what the cause of death had been. Had her eyes not been staring into the sightless oblivion one would just think her to be asleep.
 
Proceeding to my desk I immediately noted my observations both in my files though I had also voiced my findings into the wireless microphone pinned to my gown.  The recording would be transcribed later and the tape packaged into the police file, but for myself, I liked to keep track of my cases too – particularly if faced with the prospect of having to attend court to give evidence as to what I may or may not have found during an autopsy.  Having hard copies of my findings proved a godsend at those times I needed to familiarize myself with a case.  After all, as a Medical Examiner I perform countless post mortems in any one month, let alone a year, and sometimes it’s difficult to remember a particular case unless I have my notes to refer to.  I remember once in my early days as an ME when I had neglected to keep notes, by the time the case got to court my evidence was almost demolished because I wasn’t properly prepared and the defendant was very nearly acquitted of the murder of his young wife.  From then on I made every effort to maintain my notes from each case to ensure something like that would not happen again.
 
Upon returning to the lifeless but still beautiful form on the morgue table I gathered my instruments and prepared to make the Y incision.  This is the first cut in a post mortem with the arms of the Y extending from each shoulder to just below the sternum and continuing to the pubic bone.  The skin is then pulled back to reveal the bone and muscle, but the ribcage and breastplate must be sawn off and removed to expose the organs.  I proceeded with the seemingly invasive task, recounting every step for the benefit of the recording and for whoever may be watching and listening on the other side of the glass panelling overlooking my work area.  In cases where death was suspicious and the police were involved, quite often there were witnesses to the post mortem – for those who could stomach it.  Inasmuch the steps I undertake in those cases can either be further scrutinized or validated as having been competently accurate.  Sometimes I’m not sure which I prefer.  Either way I am under scrutiny.
 
As I lifted the sternum plate out of the chest cavity I noted my cursory observations in the appearance of healthy organs, though it was rather apparent before beginning the autopsy that this woman clearly took great care of herself physically.  One by one I removed the heart, lungs, liver and so forth, studying them closely before weighing them and noting their measurements.  Apart from the slight constriction of the bronchus to the lungs everything certainly appeared normal but I would have to excise a section of each for microscopic samples to be taken and sent for further analysis.   Removing the stomach I made an incision and drained the organ of its contents for further examination of the woman’s last meal, not yet digested.  Traces of lettuce, tomato, cheese and an oily substance were noted along with what appeared to be red wine.  In layman’s terms, her last meal had been a garden salad with dressing and red wine.   There was some inflammation of the stomach lining, suggesting she may have experienced cramping, and the oesophageal wall indicated vomiting.  There was no sign of undigested pills, and only a blood analysis would ascertain whether there were any drugs in her system, but I was beginning to think that unlikely.  Though cocaine use was common with the elite, as was ecstasy in the party scene, I still wasn’t convinced an overdose was the cause of death for this unfortunate lady.
 
Noting the time I continued the examination, completing those of the organs and then removing the brain, which I then placed in a small solution of formalin for future analysis, should it be needed.  I was also aware of any spectators cringing at the sound of the bone saw.  There is something about the sound of cutting of bone.  As an ME I have become immune to it, in the sense that it no longer bothers me, but to anyone outside of a morgue it is an awful sound.  I could only guess they were grateful when I replaced the skull cap, signifying the examination of the brain and its surrounds to be over. Although there was no sign of sexual assault I was still required by law to perform an examination of the pelvic and genital area, which only confirmed recent sexual activity but no assault.  Sadly examination of the uterus revealed Jane Doe had been approximately 8 weeks pregnant, which would account for the vomiting on its own, but not the cramping and constriction of the bronchial airways.
 
Sighing silently to myself as I often do at the untimely death of a child or in this case, a foetus, I completed the post mortem with the final stitches to the sewn up incision I’d made at the beginning of the examination.  After discarding my gloves and paper gown, I scrubbed down and wandered to my desk to make my final notes and conclusive findings before signing off and delivering my preliminary report to the police.  Blood tests were yet to come back which would either confirm or refute my preliminary findings, that now I scribbled in the notes I made.
 
Name: Jane Doe
Case #: 61754/07
Cause of Death: Anaphylaxis
 
With the help of my assistant technician, we moved Jane Doe from the cold slab of the mortuary table to a gurney, sliding her into the morgue refrigerator and closing the door.   The hollow emptiness of her resting place filled only by the shell that was once a temple for her soul.  A beautiful well-cared for woman with a face, a name and a life – now she was just a nameless body bagged and tagged in the morgue.
 
By my findings, Jane Doe suffered an allergic reaction during her lunch of salad, possibly due to the oil used in the dressing which probably contained traces of nuts, to which she was more than likely she was allergic.  Hence therefore, she went into anaphylactic shock and died.  The routine blood tests, I suspect, will merely confirm this. 
 
And it is there that my involvement ends.  Case closed.
 
© Christina aka Stina
22nd April 2007
Extreme Warmth
Summary: Talie plans for their annual extreme warmth trip
 
 
                It was almost her favorite time of the year. Summer was just how she like her life – hot and long. Talie had pulled out her summer clothes and had deciphered what was she could and could not wear. Talie knew he was picky about how she dressed. He wanted the kinky stuff for himself alone. Talie was excited that he would have time off and could not hurt so much. She often felt that he only started dating her because she was a physical therapist.
                Talie packed their clothes. He wanted to take her away. He stated that he knew from the winter months that she needed some extreme warmth. She really knew that he wanted the heat. Cold compresses worked while he was on the road. She made sure that he was not in pain. Sometimes her massages lead to other things, but mostly he went to sleep. She hated how he tried to hide how much pain he was experiencing. If it wasn’t his neck, then it was his ribs or his back.
                Talie had just moved the last bag down the stairs. She was startled when she noticed him lying on the couch. She was about to cover him with a blanket when he gently grabbed her arm. Lay with me!  He whispered. I know we’re supposed to fly out tonight, but may be we can make our own warmth here.  He suggested as Talie moved to get comfortable. She melted at his touch. He always made her feel so loved and that no one else existed.
                Kurt rubbed her back and realized she had fallen asleep. He loved Talie. He wanted to propose to her in their house. She was the first woman that he met after the divorce. She did not push but was always there. He brought the house as a present to her. He was tired of her crazy roommates. Not to mention he loved the idea of coming home to her.
                He gently reached for the ring box that was on the floor. He had already opened it. He pulled the ring out and gently placed it on her finer. He then kissed her finger. Kurt reached for the throw from behind the couch. He eased to cover them up. He took a deep breath. This would be the extreme warmth to remember.
 

Genta

Something New by Moonlight
 
Summary: Lilian finally gets her wish
 
        Lilian had it all figured out. Shawn had finally agreed to a date with her. She had to do something extraordinary. She knew he had dated other ladies and was left wanting. Trish told her to think outside the box. Lilian completely thought outside the building.
 
            Lilian began to pack the picnic basket. She had created a chef salad with raspberry vingerette. She had grilled rib eyes with chopped onions and peppers. She had sautéed mushrooms. She had French style green beans, corn on the cob and asparagus. She had chocolate covered strawberries. She had a bottle of Arbor Mist Pinot Grigio. Lilian smiled as the doorbell rang. Shawn was right on time. He was curious as to where they were going.
 
            Lilian was captivated by how handsome Shawn looked. He wore a white causal, blue jeans and cowboy boots. Shawn was amazed at how carefully she planned everything out. If he was honest, he had his eye on Lilian for a while. He loved her smile and energy. She was very easy to talk to about anything. There was something that prevented him from accepting her previous invites.
 
            Shawn took a sip of the Pinot Grigio and watched Lilian as she set up everything. He noticed that she also set up her laptop. She motioned for him to start eating. He moved to grab a plate and began to prepare his plate. He noticed the movie. It was called Something New. He noted how the moonlight danced on her skin. He was not sure how serious he could be after his divorce. His hesitations could have prevented him from starting something new. When he saw her smile, he knew that he wait was over. Lilian was his something new.
 

Genta

*Warning... the following story contains erotica*

I come to you as you sleep. I enter your room and kneel quietly beside your bed. You are alone. I am naked. My eyes devour your masculine shape as you lay peacefully on your belly, one leg straight, the other bent. There is a sheet covering the lower part of your body. Your big arms are hugging the pillow, your handsome face is turned sideways, toward me. I long to touch the bulging muscles of your shoulders, back and arms. I hungrily breathe in the manly scent that is illuminating from your body. A surge of heat inflames me, and my heart begins to beat fast. I tenderly brush your cheek with the back of my hand. Your lips look so inviting that I feel the need to touch them with mine. I bend down and gently press my mouth to yours. You jerk away. Your eyes open. I have startled you, but I did not mean for you to awaken that way.

I quickly rise to my feet as you jump up in shock. I am worried that maybe I should not have come. Maybe you will be mad at me for waking you. You are standing in front of me. You look down into my eyes and you immediately see who I am. But I am afraid. The massive man standing in front of me is a man that I really do not know well. I realize that I might have made a fatal mistake. As I scan the length of your powerful, nude body, I can see that I would be no match for your strength.

You see the fear and apprehension in my eyes. You reach out and caress the side of my face to reassure me that you would never do anything to hurt me. I feel shy standing before you, bare skinned. My only adornment is a small white feather hanging onto a thick, pink lock of my hair. I am here with you now, in the flesh. I am no longer just a memory.

You cradle my face with both of your strong hands. Your warm mouth covers mine. I move my hands to your broad shoulders, finally able to touch them for the first time. Your passionate kiss has made me fully aware of the heat that is being generated between my, soft curved thighs. You move your lips away, to look into my half-closed eyes. Then, you pull my nakedness firmly against yours and your mouth hungrily devours mine. Your tongue pushes hard against mine, causing my whole body to tremble with desire. I can feel hot liquid running down the inside of my legs. The feel of your smooth, bare body sets me on fire. I can feel your hardness pushing against me as you continue to kiss me deeply and heavily. I begin to ache for you. I draw your bottom lip into my mouth and wildly suck on it. You have unleashed the wildness that hides inside me and I cannot control it. And I do not want to control it. It feels good to be set free at last.

Your big arms hold me tighter. You caress my soft back and stroke my long, thick hair with your rugged, lustful hands. I groan, because I need you and I want you. My skin is scorching hot. You savagely pull me down to the bed. I can feel your hot breath on my neck. It excites me even more to know that you are so passionately aroused. Your hands are all over my body; rubbing, massaging, stroking. My nipples are hard and sensitive. Both of your hands smother my tender breasts. I am hot. I am on fire. You suck my breast into your hot, wet mouth. I gasp. I can feel a gush of wet heat flooding out between my thighs. You are making me ache for you. I am in sweet, blissful torment. You lick and suck on my erect nipples, then move your mouth back to mine. I feel as if I will burst into flames. Your tongue ravishes mine. I push myself upward, as if trying to push my whole body into yours. Your desire is heightened. Your hard manhood wants to stretch my hot, soaked walls to the limit.

You keep your mouth clamped tight over mine as you push my knees outward with yours. I feel as if I will die if you do not move into me now! I am famished for you. I need all of you. In an emotional voice, I whisper to you, "I am yours. I am all yours." You push in me hard and I squeal out and tense up as I scald your rock-hard cock violently with my hot, wet nectar. I squirm wildly beneath you and claw at your back. I meet your every stroke with a rapturous hunger. I feel as if I need to have your whole body inside me. I crave you with an untamable passion and desire that only you can satisfy. You can feel the strong suction and the throbbing sensation of my sizzling, soaked insides. You feel as if your cock is being swallowed up and eaten whole by my sucking, burning tunnel. You can hear my juices as you pound into me with a heated passion.

You feel the need to go deeper, as deep as you can get. You hurriedly turn me over onto my hands and knees. My hair flies wildly and drapes over the sleek, brown skin of my back. Your excitement is at a peak. I am with you, every part of me, and you want it all. You want to cram me full of your big, hard cock. Your love for me cries out for you to go slow and gentle, but your searing hot passion will not allow it this time. So you plunge deeply into my starving, wet pussy. I cry out as I drown your cock in my hot slippery juice. I squeeze on you hard, as if my pussy is trying to suck out every drop of your firey, hot cum. You have penetrated me deeper than I have ever had before. You are touching places that I have never been touched before. You are going so deep inside me that your every stroke sends flaming pulses through my entire body.

You can not hold back any longer. The strong suction of my hot, wet walls wrapping around the length of your cock is so fierce that you have to fill me full. I can feel your scalding fluids shooting deep inside me with a powerful force that I have never felt before. Every potent spurt burns me inside with a hot, stinging sensation. We are one. We are screaming and moaning in ecstasy. There is nothing better. The room could be falling down all around us, but all that matters is now........ these hot, firey moments of bliss.

We both collapse in sweet exhaustion. Beads of sweat are dotted all over our hot bodies. I kiss you, long and sweet and then snuggle into your safe, warm chest and fall asleep.

Morning comes. You are only half-awake. You are remembering the wild power of our lovemaking the night before. You can feel my soft body against yours and my warm breath on your chest. You want me again. You need me again, but this time you want to go slower. You want to explore every part of my body with every part of yours. Your cock hardens and throbs to be inside me. You hear the whisper of my voice, "I am yours. I am all yours." The strong yearning to be with me causes you to fully awaken. You reach for me. You look for me.............. There is only the lingering scent of my sweet, wild body............... and a soft, delicate feather resting lightly on the pillow.

I am gone...............................because I can only be with you when you are dreaming.

Lupa DeDanna

"Last Time"

One more try turned into this

One more try, one last kiss

Sudden disinterest, passing phase

Left me longing, with dismay

Your words were broken

Sweet laced lies

Shattered heart, ripped up pride

Once more I feel for this twisted game

Ending only in my pain

This time I’ve learned

No more games to play

I’m taking myself out of this

Leaving things between us to lay

Unspoken goodbyes, best things left unsaid

This thing between us left for dead
Lupa DeDanna

I wrote this back in November but I'm sending it to you now because one of this month's challenges prompted me to write a second version of this story from Blake's point of view.  I thought it might help to have the original for reference.  I do not expect this to be counted for this month since I wrote it five months ago.  LOL  My apologies in advance for the length.  I've told ya'll many times I don't know when to shut up.  LOL

 

Notes: Some bad words and the implication of sex, but nothing nasty actually written.  LOL

 

Volume XI: Some Beach

 

Ali stood at the sink, head hanging, fingers grasping the countertop desperately.  She stared at her haggard reflection in the stainless steel.  “Please, just shoot me now,” she muttered.

 

“Ali?” came a familiar, and welcome, voice from the hallway.  “Are you here somewhere,”

 

“Yeah, I’m in here, Albie.”

 

Alpine pushed open the door to the kitchen and just looked at his long-time friend.  Frowning, he came up behind her and put his hand on her back.  “Babe, are you okay?”

 

“No. I’m dying.  Leave me in peace.”

 

Alpine gently turned her until she was facing him.  Lifting her chin to meet her gaze, he smiled and looked into her worried eyes.  “I doubt you’re dying.  Now, spill it.”

 

“I’m pregnant.”

 

“WHAT?”

 

“You heard me.”

 

“How late are you?”

 

“Just a few days.  But…”

 

“But, it’s only a few days.  You’ve never been very predictable in that area, you know.”

 

“Yeah, I know, but then, I’ve never felt like this either.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Sick.  Dizzy.  Headachy.  Weepy.  Too tired to give a…”

 

“Shit.”

 

“Well, I was going for a different ending, but close enough.”

 

He waved one hand in the air.  “No, I didn’t mean that.  I just meant, ‘Shit, you probably are then’.  That’s all.”

 

“That’s all, he says.  Shoot me before Duke finds out.  Please.”

 

Albie shook his head and pulled her into a hug.  “Duke’s not gonna find out.  Have you taken a test yet?”

 

Ali shook her head.  “Woke up too sick these last few days to do much of anything.  Been too dizzy to try and drive.”

 

“Okay then,” Alpine began.  “First order of business is to go get a test.  Go lay down.  I shouldn’t be too long.”

 

“You don’t have to…”

 

“Of course I do.  Besides, I need to know if I should take some of my leave time to do some ‘hunting’ of my own.”

 

“Albert Pine!”

 

Laughing, he kissed her cheek.  “I’m only teasing.  But, have you talked to him lately?”

 

“No.  Not since he was here the last time.  Not sure what I’d say even if I had.”  She paused and caught her friend’s gaze.  “You do realize that this could be my ass.  Getting preggo is one thing, but doing it while on assignment?  Hawk’ll hang me by my toes.”

 

“I know, but we’ll worry about that when we know for sure, okay?”  She nodded and flopped onto the couch.  “Until then, try not to freak out on me, okay?  It’s my first day back home.  You coulda waited until tomorrow to do this to me.”  He kissed her forehead and pulled a blanket over her prone form.  “Be right back, babe.”

 

Ali adjusted the pillow and promptly fell asleep.

 

*~*~

 

Grabbing the Walgreens bag, Alpine climbed out of the Jeep and locked the door.  He was halfway up the drive when he heard his name.  Turning, he stumbled when he saw who was coming up behind him.

 

“Hey Alpine, wasn’t expecting you here.  Thought you were gonna be gone for a month?”

 

Shit!  “Hey Blake, got things done and over with sooner than expected.  That always makes the uppity-ups happy.”

 

“Yup, sure does.  Is she home?”

 

“Yeah, she was just flopping on the couch when I was leaving.”

 

“Whatcha got?”

 

“Um, asprin.  She had a headache.”

 

“Ah.  Lacking something in her diet, maybe?”  He gave Alpine an evil grin.

 

Despite everything, Albie couldn’t help but laugh.  “Mmm… could be.”

 

Blake clapped him on the back and let himself into the house.  Albie hid the pregnancy test behind his back and escaped to his bathroom to hide the incriminating evidence.

 

*~*~

 

“Hey Cookie,” Blake murmured, kneeling down beside her. 

 

“Later, Albie.  I don’t wanna think ‘bout it now.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Ignore her,” Albie interrupted.  “She talks crazy when she’s half-asleep.”

 

“Ah, gotcha.”  He placed a gentle kiss on her nose and let her sleep.

 

“Care for a grilled cheese?  It’s about the extent of my culinary skills.”

 

“Sure.  That’s about as gourmet as I get.”

 

*~*~

 

Ali awoke to the smell of grilled cheese and dill pickles.  Forcing her eyes open, she threw off the blanket and staggered into the kitchen.  “You are SO gonna make me like, I dunno, five of them things.  Now.”

 

Almost choking on his sandwich, Albie looked up and grinned.  “Sure thing, babe.”  He pulled the skillet out of the sink and began buttering bread.

 

“So,” Blake began, “does this mean I’m in the doghouse?”  He affected a pathetic pout.

 

“Huh?” she asked, startled.  “Shit!  Where’d you come from?”

 

“Oklahoma.  Where’d you come from?”  Flashing that grin at her, he got up from his seat at the kitchen counter.  Blake reached out to pull her towards him and she took a step back.  “Crap.  I really am in the doghouse.  First you ignore me, now you’re not letting me near you.”  He looked hurt.  “What’d I do?” he asked quietly.

 

Get it together!  She scolded herself quietly.  “I’m sorry, Cowboy.  I honestly didn’t see you sitting there when I came in.  And for the rest, I’m just not awake yet and all that survival crap sticks with you.”  She forced herself to go to him and let him hold her.  It took all she had to not panic in his arms. 

 

“Mmm… I see,” he mumbled, burying his face in her neck.  “I suppose I forgive you.”  Relieved, he let her go. 

 

“Here,” Albie handed over three grilled cheese and a handful of dill pickle chips.  “I’ve gotta go pack.”

 

“Pack?”  Ali and Blake looked at each other. 

 

“Jinx!” Albie yelled and rushed off to his room.

 

Ali watched him run off down the hall.  Blake watched Ali put away all three sandwiches without pausing. 

 

“I love a woman with an appetite.”

 

Horrified, she realized all three sandwiches and the pickles were gone.  “Whoops!  Hungrier than I thought.”

 

“Apparently.”

 

Alpine appeared back in the kitchen, a small olive green duffle bag in one hand.  “Where are you going?  You just got home?”

 

“Um,” he flicked his gaze towards the tall cowboy beside her.  “Gotta mini-job to do.  Just remembered it.”

 

“You are so full of…”

 

“Blake, please,” she laughed.  “Are you going to the base to crash?”

 

“Yeah.”

“Why?” 

 

“Because, Cowboy, he’s afraid you’re gonna stay.”

 

“Is that a problem?”

 

“Not for me.  You, Albie?”

 

“Not if I’m not here, it isn’t.”  He grinned and kissed her cheek.  “Just call me and let me know when the ‘code red’ has ended.  K?”

 

Trying to hide the blush creeping up her cheeks, Ali muttered, “Sure.”

 

Alpine shook hands with Blake and wished him luck. 

 

“What’s a ‘code red’ and why do I need luck?”

 

“A ‘code red’ is the prospect of a well, a really good evening.  Or weekend.  Or well, you get the idea.”  She was blushing so furiously now; she couldn’t even look him in the eye.

 

“Mmm… nice.  So why’d he wish me luck then?”

 

“Probably since I almost killed my last boyfriend on a long weekend.”  He’d also turned out to be spying on her, trying to gather sensitive intelligence, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. 

 

“Ahh… what a way to go, though!”  Blake laughed and pulled her into his arms.  “So, what do you say?  We’re both fed.  You’ve had a nap.  Should we start the interrogation now?”  He nipped at her earlobe, sighing his hot breath along her neck.

 

Ali shivered at the expectation of an unplanned romp with the hottest man she’s ever known.  “Absolutely!”  Taking his face in her hands, she pressed her lips against his and forced her tongue into his mouth.  He willingly allowed her in, meeting her tongue with his.  Ali was just beginning to melt when she felt a vibration at her hip.

 

“Dammit!” She pulled her phone out of its holster and glared at the caller ID.  “Go on back, I’ll be right there.”  She pecked him on the cheek and swatted his backside.

 

“Yes ma’am!” he mock saluted, pulling his shirt off as he headed towards her room.

 

Ali shook her head and answered her cell.  “This better be good.”

 

Laughter.  “Could it get any better?  I put the thing in my medicine cabinet.  Don’t forget to use it!”

 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.  Thanks.”

 

“Love ya, babe.”

 

“Love ya too, ya nut.”

 

Albie disconnected and Ali left her phone ‘accidentally’ on the kitchen counter. 

 

*~*~

 

Ali snuggled deeper into the covers and closer to her lover.  He pillowed her head on his shoulder and held her close with his free arm.  Content and satisfied, they were both on the brink of sleep.

 

“I’ve missed you, Cookie.”

 

“I’ve missed you, too, Cowboy.”

 

Within minutes, he was breathing deeply.  Ali resisted the urge to let his slow, even breathing lull her to sleep.  She still had one very important thing she needed to do. 

 

As soon as she was certain he was asleep, she eased his arm off her, and slipped out of bed.  She padded down the hall to Alpine’s bedroom.  Taking a deep breath, she opened his door and let herself inside.  Snagging a freshly laundered T-shirt off his dresser, she pulled it over her head and attempted to cover something of herself. 

 

She opened the bathroom door and rooted in the medicine cabinet until she found what she was looking for.  Staring at the box, she began to cry.

 

“Care to explain that to me?” Blake asked from behind her, motioning to the box in her hand.

 

“What?  I mean, I thought you were asleep.”

 

“I was.  Then I got cold and you weren’t there anymore.  What’s going on?”

 

Ali sighed, resigned to the fact of the matter at hand.  She lifted the box up and showed him.  She watched him turn even paler as his suspicions were confirmed.  “Blake…”

 

“How long have you known?  Or suspected, I guess?”

 

“Just a couple days.”

 

“And you were gonna tell me when?”

 

“As soon as I was able to use this damn thing!”

 

“Sorry.  Sheesh.”  He turned to walk out of the doorway.

 

Ali reached out and grabbed his arm, watching how the muscles played under the taut skin.  “I’m sorry.  I’ve been really stressed these last few days.  I could lose my job, you know.”

 

“No, I didn’t know.  You’d get booted from the military for being pregnant?”

 

“Not exactly.  It’s more like HOW and WHEN and with WHOM it all happened.”  She paused a moment and frowned. “I doubt it’d even matter that it’s been months since that assignment ended.  I can hear Duke now, ‘It’s the principle of the matter, Lady Jaye’.”  She shook her head sadly.

 

“Mmm… I see.  So, why didn’t you call?  Even if you didn’t know, and you were worried, you could have called me.”  He held out his arms and hugged her hard.  “I need you.  I love you.  I want to help you.”

 

“I know.  You’re just… you, I guess.  Superstar and all that crap.  I didn’t want you to panic and foul things up for yourself.  I certainly didn’t want to screw up your career.  I’ve done enough of that to my own lately.”  She sighed heavily and kissed his chest.  “Besides, I knew Albie would be home in a day or two and he’d smack me around and make me do the right thing.”

 

Blake started to laugh suddenly.  “Sorry,” he mumbled, laughing even harder.

 

“What’s so funny?”

 

“When I met him in the driveway, he said he’d gone to get aspirin for your headache.  Couldn’t even go get your own test?”

 

“Too dizzy to drive.”

 

Blake looked down at her and smiled.  “Too ditzy to drive maybe.  Now, are you gonna use that thing or do I need to hold it for you?”

 

Growling, she pushed his naked body out of the bathroom and slammed the door in his face.

 

*~*~

 

“Okay, Cookie.  It’s been three minutes.  Come out, come out wherever you are…”

 

Ali looked at the white stick sitting on the bathroom sink.  “Crap.”  Sighing, she let him in.  “There,” she pointed to the offending object.  “Go look.”

 

Blake took a deep breath and steeled his nerves to what he was about to see.  What was it going to reveal?  Baby?  No baby?  Would this tear them apart either way?  He knew one thing for certain: he couldn’t lose her over this.  Not ever.  He closed his eyes as he stepped to the edge of the sink.  He swallowed his heart back down into his chest, looked down, and opened his eyes.

 

“Aw, crap, Ali.”

This is probably more of a freewrite, but the Father's Journal entry is what made me want to go back and write about Blake's inner reactions to the whole pregnancy possibility.  I hope someone enjoys.  :)  And if not, I still enjoyed writing it.  LOL

 
Amy

 

Volume XI-A: Some Beach Flipside

(April 6, 2007 ~ based on a Father’s Journal challenge)

 

“Ali?”  Blake rolled onto his side and stared at the empty half of the bed.  “Where could she have gone?”

 

Groaning, he forced himself out of the warm bed and onto the floor.  Stretching, he looked towards the bathroom.  Nope, not in there, the door was open.  Kitchen?  It was empty too.  Scratching his head, Blake started back to the bedroom when he noticed Albie’s door partway open. 

 

What could she be doing in there?

 

Yawning, he opened Alpine’s door and glanced in.  Not seeing Ali, he started to go back out, stopping when he heard a sob.  Looking around again, he noticed a light on in the bathroom.  The door was halfway open and he approached carefully, not wanting to scare her.  And if she was crying…?

 

Ali stood in Alpine’s bathroom, clad in a plain white Hanes t-shirt, holding a long thin box, crying.  Squinting, he tried to read the box when the sudden reality of the situation dawned on him.  Very brightly.  Oh my god…

 

  “Care to explain that to me?” Blake asked from behind her, motioning to the box in her hand.  How the hell did this happen?

 

“What?  I mean, I thought you were asleep.”

 

“I was.  Then I got cold and you weren’t there anymore.  What’s going on?”  Crap.  Please let me be dreaming.  I’m not ready to be a daddy yet.  Please, not yet.

 

Ali sighed, resigned to the fact of the matter at hand.  She lifted the box up and showed him.  She watched him turn even paler as his suspicions were confirmed.  “Blake…”

 

“How long have you known?  Or suspected, I guess?”  And why the fuck haven’t you told me yet?

 

“Just a couple days.”

 

“And you were gonna tell me when?”

 

“As soon as I was able to use this damn thing!”

 

“Sorry.  Sheesh.”  He turned to walk out of the doorway.  Damn her anyway.  I don’t need this right now.

 

Ali reached out and grabbed his arm, watching how the muscles played under the taut skin.  “I’m sorry.  I’ve been really stressed these last few days.  I could lose my job, you know.”

 

“No, I didn’t know.  You’d get booted from the military for being pregnant?”  How the heck do they expect to get more soldiers?

 

“Not exactly.  It’s more like HOW and WHEN and with WHOM it all happened.”  She paused a moment and frowned. “I doubt it’d even matter that it’s been months since that assignment ended.  I can hear Duke now, ‘It’s the principle of the matter, Lady Jaye’.”  She shook her head sadly.

 

“Mmm… I see.  So, why didn’t you call?  Even if you didn’t know, and you were worried, you could have called me.”  He held out his arms and hugged her hard.  “I need you.  I love you.  I want to help you.”  Please don’t let me break down and cry.  She doesn’t need that right now.

 

“I know.  You’re just… you, I guess.  Superstar and all that crap.  I didn’t want you to panic and foul things up for yourself.  I certainly didn’t want to screw up your career.  I’ve done enough of that to my own lately.”  She sighed heavily and kissed his chest.  “Besides, I knew Albie would be home in a day or two and he’d smack me around and make me do the right thing.”

 

He flashed instantly to a memory of meeting Alpine in the driveway earlier.  Blake started to laugh suddenly.  “Sorry,” he mumbled, laughing even harder.  No wonder he retreated so quickly.

 

“What’s so funny?”

 

“When I met him in the driveway, he said he’d gone to get aspirin for your headache.  Couldn’t even go get your own test?”

 

“Too dizzy to drive.”

 

Blake looked down at her and smiled.  “Too ditzy to drive maybe.  Now, are you gonna use that thing or do I need to hold it for you?”

 

Growling, she pushed his naked body out of the bathroom and slammed the door in his face.

 

~*~

 

His smile faltered and faded as soon as she closed the door.  He heard her sigh loudly, followed by the ripping of the box.  The sounds coming from inside the bathroom were making him nuts.  Crumpling paper.  The sound of the box hitting the floor.  The next three minutes would be the hardest he’d ever waited out.

 

He glanced at his watch and started the countdown.  Then he started pacing.  Wondering.  Thinking.  Praying.

 

I’m not ready to be a daddy.  Not yet.  I’m still too much of a child myself.  He laughed at that thought.  No shit, Blake?  You can barely take care of yourself.  A wife and a baby?  No freakin’ way.

 

He shook his head roughly, clearing the negative thoughts from his mind.  Glancing back at his watch, he noted only forty seconds had passed.  Blake looked at the closed door and bit his bottom lip.  Am I in love enough to marry her if she’s pregnant?  Hell, will she even let me marry her?  Will she let her brother beat my ass for this?

 

Just past a minute fifteen.  Blake forced one hand through his unruly curls and sighed.  There were so many things to consider.  And so much of it had nothing to do with the maybe-baby.  What if it was a false alarm?  Would she still want to be with him?  Would their relationship still be the same?  Better?  Worse?  Stronger?  He didn’t know. 

 

How will I tell my mother if she is?  She won’t care how much in love I may be, all she’ll see is that I’ve screwed up.  Again.  She’ll never forgive me.  And if this ruins her career?

 

Panic set in with that thought.  Holy crap.  What if she gets into serious trouble over this?  I can’t raise a baby by myself.  Damn!

 

He forced himself to take several slow, deep breaths.  You’re overreacting.  Take it one step at a time.  Looking at his watch again, he was both relieved and frightened to see they’d hit the two-minute mark.

 

One minute to go.  He paced, hands tangled in his dark hair, heart pounding.  God, I love her.  There.  He’d said it.  Admitted it to himself.  And there ain’t a chance in hell that I’m going to let her go no matter what the outcome of this damn test!  Finally, he was ready to face whatever fate had in store for him, and damn his parents, his job and her job too.  All that revelation and fifteen seconds to spare.

 

Taking a deep breath, and saying a silent prayer, he raised his fist to knock on the bathroom door.

 

~*~

 

“Okay, Cookie.  It’s been three minutes.  Come out, come out wherever you are…”  And please God let this all be okay…

 

Ali looked at the white stick sitting on the bathroom sink.  “Crap.”  Sighing, she let him in.  “There,” she pointed to the offending object.  “Go look.”

 

Blake took a deep breath and steeled his nerves to what he was about to see.  What was it going to reveal?  Baby?  No baby?  Would this tear them apart either way?  He knew one thing for certain: he couldn’t lose her over this.  Not ever.  He closed his eyes as he stepped to the edge of the sink.  He swallowed his heart back down into his chest, looked down, and opened his eyes.

 

“Aw, crap, Ali.”  He stared in disbelief at the negative sign on the little plastic stick and sighed.  Looking up and meeting her relieved gaze, he gave her a weak smile.  “I guess it’s all going to be okay then, huh?”

 

“Yeah,” she smiled back.

 

So why do I suddenly feel so empty?  And why does it hurt so much?


Barely Breathing................

In the dark, heart still heaving, though worlds apart. Stolen moments,
in their prime. Endless happiness for a time.

When time stands still, and we're all alone.

The sound of your voice my sheltered home.

The tender touches, full of grace.

A gentle look upon your face.

A sweeten kiss, a soften brush.

Forbidden feelings now in a rush.

Silent summons, and solace, kept within the night.

Find us barely breathing by morning light

Holding me close, I lost the fight.

Still here with you in the light.

Your arms my prison, your smell my home.

Dangerous longings, the need to go.

Yet you hold me, with beguiling smiles.

unspoken promises now my allure.

Another kiss, sinfully pure. Barely breathing, i, your captive, await.

Wicked promises for another day.

Lupa DeDanna

A rock ripped through the leaves of a tree finding its intended target.   A small body spiraled to the ground landing with a soft thud.  Jon smiled as inspected his latest victim and stuffed his slingshot in his pocket.   This was better than doing chores at home.  Darkness was approaching and it was time to head back.  Sounds around him were making him jumpy, so he quickened his pace, wanting to get out of the woods.   Awhile later, tired and disorientated, he stopped to get his bearings.  The boot hit something and he stood looking at a small dead squirrel.

 

Dusty

~ In Silence ~
 
I don’t want to talk about it
it’ll only make me cry
And if you ask me how I’m doing
I just know I would lie.
 
‘Cause how can I admit to you
the failure that I am?
Please don’t make me go there
‘cause I don’t think I can.
 
Instead I’ll smile politely
or hide behind the stare
The one that deems me ignorant
and that I don’t really care.
 
A resemblance to an ostrich
with his head deep in the sand,
Is the apparent parallel
of who I really am.
 
They say that men don’t listen,
well it seems neither do I
But still I take in every word
although I don’t know why
 
I cannot follow simple tasks
I’ve no initiative
Unless it uses gigabytes,
what the hell do I think with?
 
So maybe I’m not perfect
but still it seems to me
Despite my meagre efforts
I am expected to be.
 
How can I live up to that
hoping to achieve
Perfection as one sees it
instead of being me.
 
So here I am in silence
behind these padded walls
Wishing, hoping, waiting
that tomorrow has in store –
 
Promises of a better day
with no need to hide
The heartache I keep to myself
and locked so deep inside.
 
So you see I cannot tell you
though I really wish I could
For the living fear of judgment
Will show I’m not so good –
 
Instead I’ll keep on smiling
with my head still in the sand,
But please don’t make me go there
‘cause I don’t think I can.
 
© Christina
31st March, 2007

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